


Chasing liberty

by Demonic_activity



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Parent Robert Lightwood, Europe, F/M, French Kiss AU, History teacher!Alec, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Maryse Lightwood Being An Asshole, Military Homophobia, Paris (City), Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, based on the awesome Meg Ryan romcom, maybe like medium angst?, oh and, thief!magnus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-10-06 16:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10339191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demonic_activity/pseuds/Demonic_activity
Summary: Magnus leaned in and, though still light, his words had an almost undetectable intensity to them, as if he was coming to the conclusion of an important argument he had been trying to make all along.“Did you ever think that maybe it’s not the airplane?”Alec found himself once again confused by the fellow passenger’s train of thought “What’s not the airplane?”“Maybe it’s something else you fear?”After a lifetime of trying to please his parents, it might be time Alec Lightwood started living for himself. In between trying to make a living, troubles from the past come back to haunt, and some teensy unrequited feelings, Alec is struggling with what exactly that means.Welcome aboard United Airline nonstop service to Paris. Ensure your seat belt is securely fastened and your chair is in the upright position: this might be a bumpy flight!





	1. An American in Paris

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this idea popped into my head after recently re-watching the 1990s romcom French Kiss. So I borrowed quite heavily from the plot as well as some dialogue.
> 
> Chapter title is an American Musical from 1951.
> 
> Obviously I own nothing (except the quirky ramblings of my own brain).  
> I'm planning around 10 chapters.
> 
> Please enjoy, look out for Notes at the end, and comment/kudo/hate/love away!

“Just... come to Paris with me.”

Jace was practically pleading now, and everyone knew Jace didn’t do pleading (nor Alec for that matter). Alec sighed, averting his eyes from Jace’s, looking everywhere but in the intense, almost ferocious gaze now locked onto him, choosing instead to focus on Jace’s attempt to flatten the contents of his suitcase in order for it to close.

Neither man had much success.

Alec had a hard time saying ‘no’ to those remarkable mismatched eyes when they were focused on him so attentively, or beseeching him, as they were now.

_And maybe Alec had a hard time saying anything with Jace’s eyes fixed on him like that, but he wasn’t going to be the one admitting that right now._

Alec swallowed, as if he could force these thoughts out of his throat and out of his life that way. “Jace, you know I –“

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Jace cut in “I know you hate flying but come on man, Paris. Alec, Paris! You’re a history teacher for fuck’s sake, dude.”

“Yeah I wasn’t aware of that, Jace, thanks.”

“And no, it’s not about the flying” Alec continued, irritation creeping into his voice as Jace had brought up the one real, and some would say irrational, fear he held. But honestly, whoever thought it was natural to be suspended thousands of feet above the earth in an iron box that could be annihilated by something as ridiculous as an honest-to-God goose, was in desperate need of a healthy dose of self-preservation. 

So okay yeah, maybe it was a little bit about that.

“Dude” Jace eyed him skeptically, grinning knowingly in a way that somehow filled Alec with something like unease as well as melancholy, “Look I’ll give you ten milligrams of Valium and a shot of Whiskey, we’ll be there before you know it.”

Alec wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer and just leveled him with his characteristic surly glare. “You know I can’t leave the country until my immigration interview.”

“Ugh” Jace groaned “We can make something up, say there was an emergency. Who knows, maybe your cousin Lydia fell in the Seine…”

“It’s serious Jace. They’ll find out I don’t have a cousin Lydia and deport me. You can just bet it’ll be like that _one_ time I did anything illegal. I didn’t want to smoke pot in the first place, I had a horrible time” Jace snorted, causing Alec to scowl, “then Raj’s brother had to be dick and call the police, and we got arrested.”

“The one time!” Alec iterated for good measure.

“No need to remind us all what a goodie-two-shoes you are big brother” a light and amused voice sounded behind him. Alec whirled around. 

“Izzy, Max!” Jace exclaimed as he quickly stepped around Alec and scooped their sister up in a hug, while simultaneously fist-bumping the gangly teen leaning in the doorway. Max, surveying the scene, carried a characteristic grin on his face that didn’t diminish when Alec rumpled his hair affectionately as a way of greeting. 

“Thanks for that Izzy” Alec grumbled, but he couldn’t completely hide the note of fondness from his voice or the twitch at the corner of his mouth. He leaned in to hug her as well “I can’t help it if I spend most of my time saving your asses from making a huge shitshow of your lives”

“Exactly! Which is why I need you by my side on this trip, Alec” Jace was quick to point out, pouting as he tried his hand at a new tactic.

Alec just rolled his eyes. “It’s only two weeks and you’ll be busy working most of the time anyway”

“And have I pointed out that the French hate us?” Alec felt the need to put in. “Actually all of Europe right now, probably. But the French… not to mention they smoke and they have this relationship to dairy products of an intensity that is more than a little unsettling.”

Jace huffed disbelievingly.

“So it’s the French thing” Izzy nodded while managing to expertly zip up Jace’s overstuffed suitcase, causing Jace to scoff in annoyance as well as awe.

“Nah”, contributed Max, “I bet you it’s the flying thing, which is just _plane_ stupid if you ask me”, he added with a shit-eating grin.

“Seriously, Max?” Alec groaned. “No it’s not the French thing, and it’s not the flying thing; I can’t leave the country until my citizenship comes through, which, mind you, is mainly in our family’s interest as it will enable me to sponsor _your_ visa” jabbing Max playfully in the chest at this last part.

“Really? And here I thought it was just for you to pass on U.S. citizenship to all those babies you’re going to father.” That had the three of them cracking up.

 

_Family – am I right?_  

Alec sighed once more, “I hate you all”. But as he looked at them laughing at his expense: his younger brother and sister and the best friend he also considered a brother, if not more; this close-knit part-natural part-makeshift family he had, he couldn’t even feel a little bit upset over the total lack of venom behind the statement.

 

* * *

 

After a night of classic Lightwood-sleepover-shenanigans, Izzy and Alec had dropped Jace off at the airport for his morning flight. It was still very early and Alec was sipping a much-needed black coffee, while watching the sun climb through the low clouds, casting a golden haze on incoming and departing planes that seemed to glisten in the first rays. 

“Regretting your decision or do you just actually enjoy soaking in your own self pity?”

_Trust Izzy to give it to you straight._

“I’m fine Iz” 

“Right”, Izzy displayed an eye-roll that looked eerily like his own “I forgot how friggin’ repressed you are, not to mention apparently incapable of doing anything remotely approximating self-interest.”

When he didn’t react her voice and demeanor softened “Don’t shut me out Alec”, she pleaded in a low voice. Worry colored her tone and clouded her face. To see his normally, at times almost annoyingly, self-assured sister so anxious tugged at Alec’s heartstrings. 

What was worse was that it was him that’d got her so on edge.

He wanted to reassure her. It was just… he wasn’t sure how he felt himself.

His voice was low, like he didn’t even want the glass walls to overhear his dark musings and his shoes suddenly seemed as good a place as any to direct his gaze “I want to go with him, Izz, I do, I did, I mean … - “ he spluttered.

_Good going on the eloquence Lightwood._  

He sighed and tried again “It’s Paris, Izzy, fucking Paris, city of romance and I guess I couldn’t bare the thought of going there as just…”

_Just? Just what?_

Alec swallowed. “Okay, never mind, moment’s over, I apparently can’t even really admit this yet to myself, let alone to you.

Izzy smiled, a little sad maybe, but he would take it. “Alec, it’s okay, he’s always been there for you, when you still felt the need to hide who you were, throughout your service, when you came out, and when you quit the Marines to become a teacher and our parents gave you hell for it.”

Pride was evident in her tone and stance and in the ferocity of her gaze. Alec could feel his face heating up, but Izzy continued, “He’s what you know, and what’s safe. And I really do think it would be best to actually talk to him about it, but Alec?” 

He hummed, finally meeting her eyes again, which were mercifully free of pity “what if he is just that: your safe space, your safe option, your … excuse?” she added hesitantly. 

“Are you sure you are not just afraid of finding out what’s _not_ there, not only for him, but also for you?”

Alec thought of splashes of warm brown scattered across icy blue.

“I don’t know.”

  

* * *

 

 

Alec impatiently tapped his pen against the edge of his desk, not even noticing the splotches of ink starting to form on his papers due to his nervous tic. He glanced at the clock on the wall and checked his phone again.

5:58 pm.

Jace had texted earlier to say he’d call at 6.

Alec was about to put his phone down again when it started buzzing and Jace’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hi, right on time” Alec couldn’t help but smile, “saved me from grading another essay that was obviously based solely on watching Hamilton.”

Jace chuckled “and to think you could’ve been in Paris.”

Alec hummed noncommittally “How’s it going?”

“Really good. You know, one conference after another. But this city, it’s amazing!” Jace’s excitement was almost palpable through the phone. “If I were one to use words such as ‘magical’ I would right now.”

Alec laughed softly. “How’s the food?” 

“As mind-blowing as you’d expect, they had this sauce tonight, c’etait incroyable”

“Well it has to be incroyable to cover up the horse meat”

“Thanks for the buzzkill buddy”

“I swear, I saw this documentary on Netflix..“

“OK seriously dude, you need to get out of the house more -”

“Yeah yeah yeah” 

“- and get laid!” there were some voices in the background now and he could hear Jace say something. It sounded like he was at a rather rowdy venue. 

“I gotta go, I’m with some of the guys at a club, I can’t hear too well.”

“Alright, talk to you later.”

“Yeah…” Alec could about sense Jace’s attention slipping, “and don’t forget what I said about getting laid!”

Alec decided hanging up would suffice as an answer.

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. He really had to talk to Jace, like talk talk.

_As soon as he comes back from Paris_ , Alec promised himself with a nod that no one was there to witness.

* * *

 

  

“I’ve been thinking lately” Alec poured himself some coffee in the grumpy cat mug Isabelle had gotten him last Christmas, “I should maybe actually be looking to buy an apartment. I mean, we’re all pretty much settled here, not to mention the rent is killing at the moment.”

Alec leaned back against the fridge, still in his pajamas. Max had been crashing at his place recently since he’d been fighting so much with mom and dad. And even if he wasn’t a kid anymore, there wasn’t much sleeping in on Sundays when Max had his way, which he got, usually.

“I think Izzy is on board, but it’s just kind of hard to get Jace to talk about some of this serious stuff, especially lately, since I barely get to talk to him at all.”

Max was sitting on a bar stool, AP Physics books sprawled over the counter, not that he was paying them much attention, “I’m never gonna buy a house, or anything worth anything, for that matter.”

Alec frowned “Why not?”

“You think you own something like that, but really it winds up owning you. It becomes your entire life, then someone forgets to put out their cigarette one night and it all burns to the ground.” Max grinned, “Really, humans just aren’t designed to own things.”

Alec tried to hold back his matching grin, but he probably failed “Huh, you wanna have a discussion on Marxism, buddy? Because I’ve got all morning to go down that rabbit hole.”

Max was about to form a (no doubt snarky) reply as Alec’s phone started buzzing on the granite countertop, reverberating loudly.

Alec frowned as he saw Jace’s name light up his screen. It was currently nearly 3 am in Paris.

_Alec did not have the time difference memorized. Just, no._

“Jace?”

“Yeah it’s me.” Jace sounded strange: excited and on edge.

“What’s going on? Is something wrong?" 

Max frowned and made to move across the kitchen, over to Alec.

“No, I mean yeah. Something happened.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Thoughts and scenario’s started flying through Alec’s head suffusing with possible solutions and courses of action in one big jumble. He gripped the edge of the countertop with his free hand. He felt helpless, being so far away.

From across the ocean sounded the last possible answer that he had expected “Alec, I’m just so happy.” Before he could even begin to analyse what this meant (or the level of intoxication Jace might be in), his best friend rambled on: “You know, I’m just so happy, and maybe kind of fucked.”

He could hear Jace groan at the other end of the line. He wasn’t making a lot of sense, yet he didn’t sound completely inebriated and trust Alec to know what he’d sound like if he were.

“Jace what the hell are you going on about, what are you saying?”

“I met this woman, this apparition, this… this goddesse.” Even before his mind could digest this new bit of information, his body betrayed him and he could feel something heavy and unpleasant start to build and settle in his gut. He swallowed in an attempt to assuage his suddenly dry throat.

“Goddesse?” He choked out.

“It’s French for goddess, Alec.”

That got him out of his stupefied state, and he suddenly felt on edge, irritated “Yeah no shit Sherlock.”

“Alec, I’ve never felt this way before – about anyone”

 

_Ah._

All the thoughts and questions that had been swarming in his head not yet seconds ago had suddenly vanished. He didn’t even know what to think, let alone what to say, yet he had the urgent, burning, feeling there was something very important he _had_ to say.

Alec had never really had a way with words besides those that weren’t his own, but he hadn’t before been quite so frustrated with his own inability to form coherent sentences. It was like being on the verge of having a brilliant idea: you know it’s a good one, an important one, and you’ve been circling around it, can almost make out its outline, its shape, and then… all of a sudden, it’s just gone. He had nothing.

Without a word from Alec, Jace went on: “I mean I feel like I could do anything. I could rule the world, climb the highest mountain. I could walk into a men's room and take a leak, even with some big guy in line behind me.” Jace’s words came fast; he sounded fierce and passionate, almost frantic.

_Not drunk_ Alec realized with a sudden clarity that left him slightly dizzy: _ecstatic._

“Wha – what are you saying Jace?” he hated how small and vulnerable his voice sounded all of a sudden, even to him, but he couldn’t hide the building dread, seeping through his veins, clawing at his chest.

 

“I’m in love.

Love, like in a fucking sonnet. Or in a movie.

Or like a...

 

Like... love.” he finished lamely.

 

Alec’s heart was pounding now, thrumming in his ears, making it hard to hear. His hands were slippery and he was struggling to hold on to his cellphone.

“I don’t know when I’m coming back Alec, not for a while at least, or maybe at all.

 

I’m sorry.”


	2. When good Americans die, they go to Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh so it's been too long, at least longer than I planned but I'm sure I'm not the first to realize life gets in the way sometimes. Also I'm a slow writer, and I want to plan everything out quite minutely, and then I also work full-time, lol!
> 
> So now you know more about my life than you wanted, but I plan to update a little more often than this, aiming for every 1.5 week?
> 
> Anyway, enter Magnus! *squeals*
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

> **_Welcome to United Airlines, nonstop service to Paris._ _Our flying time is an estimated seven hours, twenty minutes._   _Ensure your seat belt is fastened and that your chair back is in the upright position._ _We'll be taking off shortly. We hope you have a pleasant flight._**

Alec had a feeling he was most certainly _not_ about to have a pleasant flight.

No matter the odds, it was signing over control over his life and it somehow never failed to fill Alec with dread. All he could do now was to concentrate on breathing and keeping his eyes locked on the back of the seat in front of him, while doing his absolute best to ignore the idea that he was about to be launched into the sky, strapped to a chair. 

As if by clockwork an unhelpful memory tugged at his brain. _Inevitable, of course._

 

_He was 9, he hadn’t had his growth spurt yet and the seat was big: his legs awkwardly dangling over the edge. The attendant had been nice, adjusting his seatbelt, her voice soft and she smelled sweet, like vanilla. Nothing like mother, though. And she wasn’t here. He wishes she were here. Or Izzy. But he had to do this for them: Izzy, baby Max and mum and dad. He had to be good for them, be responsible. He felt confusion as the safety procedures were explained, they were going so fast and while born in Argentina, Spanish actually wasn’t his first language. He looked up at the man next to him, a stern looking man in a suit wearing headphones; his eyes were closed. On Alec’s other side was a bored-looking teenager playing on his GameBoy. He didn’t like feeling so confined and boxed-in. Where would he go if something was wrong? The engines roared loudly, truly encompassing, and he could feel it reverberate in his chest, competing with his heartbeat. His stomach jolted and he was pushed back in his seat as the pressure built, the plane lifting, the ground disappearing: this didn’t feel right, not at all._

 

It had been an excruciating ten hours. Most of what stayed with him from that first ever flight were the taste of bile and the feeling of terror at all the bouts of turbulence. Quite unexceptional in flights, Alec now knew.

But at the time everything had been new and completely entangled in the entirety of the experience: the pressure of this opportunity he was given, the feeling of forlornness and abandonment that he couldn’t completely repress, and the sadness of realizing that doing what was best for his family meant he couldn’t _be_ with his family.

Alec took a deep breath and shook his head imperceptibly.

_Enough. Not helping. Time for something else: a story, a mantra, anything._

_Or, you know, some Xanax._

Alec was trying to tune out his own thoughts as much as the hubbub and bustle of the boarding going on around him.

Some things were hard to tune out, however.

A melodic voice sounded nearby, conversing obnoxiously loud in French. Alec’s French was rusty to non-existent, but it sounded like it had something to do with seats. It wasn’t so much the conversation itself that had gotten his attention, however, it was the enchanting tone of the man’s voice, somehow both commanding and graceful.

And awfully flirtatious, if you asked Alec. As if on cue, the female flight attendant, who Alec assumed the man was talking to, started to giggle inappropriately.

He couldn’t help it: his eyes strayed from his carefully constructed margins of vision to find the origin of the voice.

Alec’s mouth might have dropped open if he hadn’t been as tightly wired as a spring. 

If he thought the man had sounded like a colorful character, looking at him must be like what the people in the 50s felt when viewing color television for the first time. Everything from the magenta tips of his carefully styled hair to his flamboyant outfit and excessive jewelry was…

_A lot. Just, a lot. So what if he looked lean and graceful and his skin looked like melted caramel, no reason to get all distracted. Stop staring, Lightwood!_

Of course, it’s only then that he noticed the man in question was actually looking at him, following the gesture of the attendant towards his seat row.

_Great. Fuck._

Alec quickly ducked his head so not everyone above the Mason-Dixon line could be blinded by the glowing red light buoy that was now his face.

“Well lucky me, I guess I’m flying premium after all” the man practically purred as he smoothly slid into the seat next to Alec.

Maybe he did pop a Xanax earlier because his body was really not responding to his requests anymore: he turned towards the mystery man next to him.

Big mistake.

The man was flashing him a dazzling smile. 

He really looked quite fabulous with a tangle of necklaces dangling down his chest and shirt, a shirt that was quite frankly not doing much at covering said chest, and was made of some kind of shimmery material that managed to look both velvety and silky. And then there were the _very_ tight pants. 

It was all kinds of distracting and confusing. He _really_ didn’t need this right now.

Not to mention the man was still looking at Alec, perhaps expecting some kind of response to that awful line. Then again, by now the guy must have had enough time to, in turn, evaluate Alec’s appearance, which was … boring, and a far cry from fabulous. So couldn’t they just go back to ignoring each other as people do on public transport?

Alec cleared his throat and returned to his occupation of intently studying every unique fibre in the fabric of the seat in front of him.

“What, you don’t speak English? Je ne pense pas que tu es Français.”

Alec really didn’t have enough room in his head to deal with talkative strangers. Not even (or perhaps especially) when they were supposedly fluently bilingual and quite stunning.

Instead of replying or making the mistake of looking at this conundrum of a man next to him, Alec closed his eyes and started focusing on remembering the calming mantra he’d prepared.

_Right, I could swear it was something about Paris in the springtime. Or perhaps it was summer…_

It was no use, he could practically feel the man’s eyes on him and it got him feeling surprisingly edgy. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you about staring?” Alec asked bluntly, eyes still closed. 

“You look nervous.” the man replied conversationally, as if Alec hadn’t just called him out.

Alec opened his eyes, just to roll them, “I don’t like flying.” 

The man hummed thoughtfully.

“What do you think? That the plane is going to crash and we’ll all end up on the ground, dead? I promise you if it happens, you won’t feel a thing.”

_Was this man for real?_

Alec eyed the man disdainfully from the corner of his eye “You’re French, aren’t you?” Really there couldn’t be any other reason this man was making his life so miserable right now.

“Actually, I’m Indonesian, a quarter Dutch, have lived all over Europe and I’ve been residing in the U.S. for a little while now, but sure, let’s say I’m French, since everything outside their borders seems to be the same to Americans.”

Alec started to sputter, whether to protest or apologize he wasn’t even sure. But the man just smirked and held up a hand.

“No hard feelings, I’m sure some of you are actually very aware of what goes on in the rest of the world and facts like, say, that Geneva is the capital of Switzerland, for instance.”

“It’s not, actually, that would be Bern and yes, some of us are actually very aware.”

“Okay, okay, you got me. I was just checking. Magnus Bane, by the way”, the man gestured to himself in a splashy manner. 

Why couldn’t he just cut this conversation off, Alec thought with chagrin. But the man, _Magnus Bane_ (how is that even a name?) seemed to be having way too much of a good time. 

“Alec” he replied curtly.

“So I’m curious…”

 _You don’t say._ Alec had to almost literally bite off his tong not to reply, but he wasn’t planning on actually conversing with this guy. 

“How do you get around? I mean, do you stay in your house with the doors locked?”

“I get around as nature intended: in a car.”

The flamboyant man grinned, but Alec was too distracted to be completely stunned by its brilliance, as there sounded an announcement in French.

Forgetting his own reserve in getting involved with this glittery apparition, nerves started to flutter through his stomach, stunning his senses, Alec shot up “What – what did he say? That sounded serious.”

Bane hummed, “Yes, well, the pilot says there is a crack in the engine, but not to worry, we will take off anyway.”

 

 

> **_Please remember to switch off your mobile phones and other electronic devices, or set them to airplane mode until an announcement is made upon arrival. Thank you._ **

“Wow, you think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Alec sent his personal sparkly demon the most ferocious glare he could muster.

The latter chuckled in what only could be assumed was agreement.

But then the plane started to move in earnest and Alec could only grip the armrests of his seat like he was clinging on for dear life as the aircraft started down the runway. His heartbeat sped up, fear spiking like icicles through his veins, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember why in the _hell_ he was doing this.

It seemed almost impossible then that he still had room for any other thoughts or emotions, and yet it bothered him that this stranger next tot him was privy to this, could witness him at this vulnerable moment, witness his fear and make up their mind about it, about _him_.

But Magnus babbled breezily, apparently unaware of Alec’s inner turmoil, “How tense you are, it’s incredible. Honestly, it seems rather unhealthy.”

Apparently, he needed very little encouragement from Alec to continue: “I, myself love to fly. Especially this moment: the plane getting ready to charge the runway, the engines screaming, the pressure building. The force of it slamming you back in your seat. And then… you are in the air. Everything else is behind you.” Magnus narrated passionately, sounding near in awe. His hands danced as he gestured animatedly and Alec found himself tracing their movement and the shimmering of his rings reflecting in the light.

“There is only one other place in life where I feel this kind of … exhilaration.”

Alec somehow found himself wondering out loud, despite himself, “Where’s that?”

Magnus smirked and raised one eyebrow suggestively.

_Ah, right, fast as ever._

_Also, gross._

Magnus was about to elaborate, but Alec interrupted him “No, don’t tell me, I got a pretty good idea, and that way I can still pretend we’re not actually having this conversation.”

 

 

> **_Crew prepare for take-off._ **

He wanted to tell Magnus Bane to stop looking at him, talking to him, to go away and leave him to his misery. But as the airplane started to charge down the runway in earnest, the ability to speak was left behind somewhere along with the safety of familiar ground under his feet.

 _Fuck, I don’t think I can do this_.

Magnus leaned in and, though still light, his words had an almost undetectable intensity to them, as if he was coming to the conclusion of an important argument he had been trying to make all along.

“Did you ever think that maybe it’s not the airplane?”

Alec found himself once again confused by the fellow passenger’s train of thought “What’s not the airplane?”

“Maybe it’s something else you fear?”

“What do you mean”, Alec frowned.

Magnus rolled his eyes, “Do I have to say it?”

“Will I be able to stop you?”

“It is obvious it’s not the plane you fear.I know your type.”

“Excuse me, what type is that?” Alec shot up, turning towards Magnus and now purposefully frowning.

“You’re afraid to live. Really live.” Magnus replied simply, almost triumphant, like a doctor seeing his suspicions confirmed after numerous tests (“Aha! I knew it was cancer!”).

“Oh, God help me.” Alec exclaimed.

But Magnus simply continued: You’re afraid of life. You are afraid of love. And, I’m betting, you are afraid of sex.

Why, WHY, did his face have to betray him by heating up at the mere mention? Alec cursed his genes as a blush spread over his face like ink blots on flimsy paper, marking his guilt.

“That is ridiculous.” Alec bit through a clenched jaw, increasingly annoyed.

Magnus just smirked, as if suggesting that the evidence spoke for itself.

“What is the matter with you?” Alec demanded.

Magnus’ eyes were shining, his grin devilish, and he was leaning in, consciously or unconsciously. But Alec had had it, and, though there was something tugging on his mind, reminding him of an important matter at hand, he wasn’t going to let himself be insulted like this. “You don’t know anything about me.” Alec growled.

Magnus started to say something, but Alec continued: “Stop it, what do you care? What do you know? So yeah, I don’t jump everything that moves, I don’t think that says anything about what I might or might not be afraid of!”

“So for you to sit there with that smug expression and try to shame me and tell me… you can’t just.. I mean”

“You about done?” Magnus asked while appraising him, looking amused, but not unimpressed.

Alec was about to reply, that no, he wasn’t done, in fact he could go on for a wile about Magnus’ impertinence and baseless leaps of logic.

Then Magnus gestured behind Alec, to the window, “Look. What a fantastic view.”

Alec swiveled his head around.

They were in the sky.

They had taken off and he hadn’t noticed.

As he gaped at the view he searched for the familiar, crippling, feeling of terror, for the desperation, the nausea, the heart palpitations. 

All he came up with was wonder. Absolute wonder.

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus checked his make-up in the bathroom mirror and carefully swiped away a little smudged eyeliner. Still looking pretty good, if he’d say so himself. He absent-mindedly wondered if Alec thought so too, whether his blushing was any indication or if it was just a knee-jerk reaction. Magnus had to admit, not without chagrin, that het did find Alec somewhat difficult to read, even for an expert like him.  _Alexander_ , Magnus corrected himself. Alexander Gideon Lightwood, to be precise, according to his boarding pass, which Magnus might or might not have swiped between boarding and take-off.

_So he was a curious man, sue him._

Magnus couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying himself, goading his anxious fellow passenger, while getting ample opportunity to shamelessly ogle him. Really, tall dark and handsome didn’t even begin to cover it…. Magnus had to stop himself right there. He eyed himself sternly.

_This is business as usual._

As by magic he materialized a package from the inside of his jacket. Magnus inspected the wrapping for any signs of tear and deftly proceeded to uncover the valuable content. The item he had so far successfully smuggled aboard was of an immense value, for more reasons than one. He let the smooth silver chain glide through his fingers, finally closing around the heavy pendant dangling at the end. It was a square cut ruby, about the size of a bird’s egg. Magnus thumbed the ornate setting and flipped the gem over in his palm, lightly brushing over the engraving on the back.

 _Amor verus numquam moritur_.

How foolish he had been, and probably still was in many ways. Ah well, he was not going to be sentimental about this anymore, this jewel was of no such value to him any longer. He had decided that early on while devising his plan. At most it was a souvenir from a past life, a moment in time that had long lost its glow. Now it held mere monetary value, a means to an end, if you will.

After ensuring the necklace had survived the journey so far he quickly proceeded to re-wrap the artifact with care. Magnus considered his options, while Mr. grumpy-is-the-new-sexy was not exactly the innocent old lady he had hoped to be seated next to, the man was still much less likely to be stopped at customs. There was something quite artless and surprisingly sincere about this Alexander. Then again, by the calculated way he moved and how rigidly he held himself, and what he could so far judge to be a strapping physique, Magnus would say he was of some type of military career, which could possibly prove to be problematic.

Magnus didn’t really like involving strangers in his cons, but it was sometimes a necessary evil. You could say a lot about Magnus, but he was not exactly a stranger to the French authorities. Besides, if it all went as planned, Alexander would be none the wiser. No blood, no foul. 

Magnus was still pondering these matters while making his way back to his seat when he caught sight of the younger male in question. He seemed to not have moved, still looking dazed, staring into nothingness. Sunlight was streaming in through the window, bathing his face and hair in a halo-like glow that caught Magnus off-guard, terms like ‘magnificent and ‘angelic’ slipping through the cracks and infiltrating his thoughts.

“Ridiculous”, Magnus scoffed to himself.

But he had made his decision. He flashed what he knew was a winning smile to the flight attendant asking her for two glasses with ice while simultaneously swindling two liquor bottles from her cart in a smooth movement.

He took his seat again and thereby shook Alec out of his daze, who now focused the full force of his gaze on Magnus, looking him straight in the eye, perhaps for the first time. For a moment they just stared at each other and Magnus had to admit that the boy, man, ( _boy-man_?), did have the most exquisite hazel eyes, the rays of sun illuminating his face, lighting up the greens while the darker tones of brown added depth.

_Deep enough to drown in._

Magnus cringed inwardly, what was the matter with him?

The moment lasted long enough for Magnus to start to feel slightly uncomfortable, which does not happen often, but he fought the urge to shift in his seat for he was nothing if not an expert at putting up a façade. Instead he started pouring liquor in both the glasses, handing one to Alec, who accepted it without questioning its origin.

“It’s Magnus, you said?” Alec spoke rather gently, almost shy, and in stark contrast to their earlier conversation. His voice was deep and the way it folded hesitantly around his name, trying it out on his tongue for the first time was almost literally music to Magnus’ ears.

Magnus inclined his head.

“Can I ask you something?”

“By all means.”

The younger man bit his lip.

“Never mind, forget it”

Magnus shrugged elegantly “Consider it forgotten alrea – “

“Okay, this is the thing; when you said all that stuff earlier, were you serious or were you just trying to annoy me? I mean, obviously you succeeded. But, uh… do I, I mean, do you really think I look like I’m incapable of having any fun?” Alec asked, increasingly rushing his words towards the end.

Magnus considered him silently. Alec looked down at his drink, as though hoping it would prove to be his salvation. He took a large sip and his face scrunched up in the most adorable way. Magnus had to bite his lip hard, in order not to react, but his amusement must have been clear because Alexander let out a chuckle, sounding surprisingly unguarded for a moment and Magnus couldn’t help but join in.

“Right, fine, you got me” Alec admitted, “I’m not much of a drinker", quickly adding, “but that doesn’t prove anything!”

“Alright then, how old were you when you first had sex?”

Alec actually choked on his drink this time. “What?!”

In between spluttering and coughing that seemed to be all he could manage.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re wholly innocent in the sins of the flesh.”

A blush was spreading wildly over the younger man’s face, but he still managed to roll his eyes with vigor, “No, I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re getting at, but it’s none of your business, really.”

“I only ask because, the way I see it, there’s two kinds of people, those who make quite the fuss about sex, guarding their virginity like something holy, but unable to discuss it like you would any other incredibly natural activity, and then there’s those that just … want to have fun, are excited to discover, and shameless in discussing it.”

“Let me guess, you’re more the fun-loving kind?” Alec deadpanned.

“What can I say darling, I’m a very open-minded sort of fellow.” Magnus grinned mischievously, dropping Alec a wink. 

“Oh my god, I need to be way more drunk for this.” Alec groaned, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

 

* * *

 

 “… and that’s when I got kicked out by the Spanish monks, still half-undressed, without a nickel to my name.”

Alec laughed, shaking his head, “You’re insane. And the girl?”

“Ah, yes unfortunately I never saw her again.”

Alec shook his head once again, in a mix of amusement and disapproval, “What I find hard to believe is that they stuck it out with you as long as they did, poor monks.”

“Alexander! Are you teasing me?”

Something quivered somewhere deep down in Alec’s stomach at the sound of his full name pronounced so comfortably, almost intimately, by Magnus. Though there was something not completely right there, Alec found it difficult to focus at the moment, the alcohol blanketing his mind in a soft haze. So he just smiled.

“Well I was a difficult teenager, it’s true” Magnus remarked somewhat absentmindedly, almost solemn.

“Anyway” Magnus perked up “your turn! I’m all ears.”

Alec groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. ”Damn it.”

He sighed, “Alright, fine, but it’s not very interesting really –

“I beg to differ.”

“Right. Well, so I’m, ah, gay...” It just occurred to Alec that this must’ve been one of the first times he actually said this out loud, “And by the way that statement flowed super smoothly just now you can probably guess I haven’t really been out that long. Perks of having, well, homophobic parents, and a heteronormative career culture.”

Alec cleared his throat awkwardly, eyeing Magnus from the corning of his eye, who, for once, didn’t have a sarcastic or teasing comment ready. If anything he looked politely interested, but his eyes were warm.

“Anyway, yeah I was 19, I don’t think I was hiding from it or making a fuss about it, if anything I probably wanted to get it over with”, Alec chuckled lamely, ”but yeah, we were on the swim team together, Raj and I, and this was after an evening swim practice”

“Ooooh now we’re getting to the good stuff. My god, who are you and how did you get hold of my intimate fantasies?” 

Alec was sure he couldn’t blush any more than he already was throughout this entire surreal conversation, though his face sure felt like it was trying.

“Trust me, this wouldn’t be anyone’s fantasy, we were awkward and closeted teenagers, way too inexperienced to try our hand at shower sex, and, well, it was clumsy and neither of us, uh, lasted long.”

Magnus threw his head back, cackling, “You’re right, this is much better than any of my fantasies.”

“Glad to see my life is considered a laughing matter”, Alec meant to sound surly, but he was probably smiling.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking …”

“Not that that stopped you before” Alec mumbled.

“What brings a man who hates flying across the Atlantic? Business, pleasure?”

That sobered him up.

 _An absolutely ridiculous impulsive action that I’m already regretting_.

“Neither.”

“Really? Because it seems like it must be something of great importance.”

“It’s… there’s just an essential conversation I need to have.”

“Something that couldn’t be handled over the phone?”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if it could”

Magnus hummed thoughtfully and somehow Alec had the feeling he was already coming to conclusions that Alec had rather he didn’t, as observant as Magnus appeared to be.

 

* * *

 

“Why did you get us so much to drink?” Alec moaned unhappily, massaging his head as they made they’re way over to passport control.

“I didn’t exactly pour it down your throat darling, you did that all yourself.”

Alec muttered darkly, but unintelligibly.

Magnus found himself regarding the other rather fondly, but he knew now was not the time to get distracted. “I’ll tell you what, I can offer you a ride into Paris; trust me, it will save you a lot of money on the cab fare.”

Alec gave him a dubious look, squinting his left eye skeptically.

_Perhaps the ‘trust me’ had been a tad bit bold._

“Alexander, after what we have been through together?” Magnus teased lightly. “What hotel are you staying at?”

Alec seemed to consider this, but then grudgingly answered, “L’Institute”

Magnus raised his eyebrows “Impressive”

“Listen, they always stop me at customs” Magnus made a show of sighing dramatically and rolling his eyes “so I’ll meet you outside, in a few minutes, maximum, you go ahead.”

Alec shrugged and took off towards ‘nothing to declare’.

And sure enough not three seconds later a customs official waved him over. Magnus looked around and pointed at himself with faux surprise, before sighing once again as he made his way over to the official.

“Your passport and ticket, please, and could you please open your bag for us?”

Magnus was about to comply, though not without some sass up his sleeve, when a hand came out of nowhere, stopping him mid-action.

“That won’t be necessary.” A smooth and deep voice sounded behind him.

Magnus whirled around, and his surprise was genuine this time “Luke?  _Qu’est-ce que tu fais ici_?”

The handsome and imposing dark-skinned man flashed his badge for the customs officer and requested Magnus’ papers back, “What, you think cops never get a vacation?”

“I had thought you wouldn’t allow yourself any rest till all the bad guys were caught, detective Garroway”, Magnus flashed him a cheeky grin.

Luke clapped him on the back, “Well on that note, my dear old friend, care to explain what brings you back to Paris, Magnus?”

“Oh this and that, if you must know.”

“Well you certainly wouldn’t mind me escorting you to the city, now would you?” Luke gestured towards the parked cars near the exit of Charles de Gaulle as they strolled outside “Jocelyn’s parked right there actually, I’m sure she'd be very excited to see you again.”

Magnus hesitated. _Something about best laid plans_. “Actually, I have something to…” A little while ahead he saw Alec flagging down a taxi and before Luke could follow the line of his gaze he forced a smile in Luke’s direction “Never mind, _on y va_.”

Luke gestured for Magnus to lead the way, “ _a Paris_ ”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys thought!  
> All thoughts, rambles, questions, kudos, tips, comments, jokes, childhood stories and pictures of pets welcome :)


	3. You can't escape the past in Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I should probably stop making promises about when I will update.  
> I'm sorry!  
> I got a bit stuck on the plot here, and life is hectic but what else is new?
> 
> Chapter title is from a nice quote by Allen Ginsberg:  
> “You can’t escape the past in Paris, and yet what’s so wonderful about it is that the past and present intermingle so intangibly that it doesn’t seem to burden.”
> 
> Quite fitting, no?  
> You can let me know after reading!

_Is this love or the love of the chase?_

_Is this love?_

_Is this love or the love of the chase?_

_Tell me, is it love?_

_We did the best that we can_

_Across the world, we made a plan_

_It wasn't yours_

_How soon we'd forget what we shared_

_In folding sands, our castle no more_

_The magic of sleight-of-hand_

_(Future Islands – The Chase)_

It took Alec about 15 minutes into the taxi ride to start feeling like himself again. Whether it was the hangover waking him up, the fresh air or whether he was just now finally coming out of the dreamlike daze that was the past 8 hours of his life, he couldn’t be sure. 

However, it meant there was now ample room for other thoughts to creep in.

Fields and suburbs were streaming past in a blur: apartment buildings, trees, McDonald’s and even an Ikea. It was hard to pinpoint anything that indicated he’d just swapped one continent for another besides the traffic signs in French. But he wasn’t really taking any of it in.

Alec couldn’t comprehend it. None of it. How his brain had been capable of any other thought than the usual _makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop_ ; how he had felt… well not exactly comfortable, in fact, he would’ve still gladly exchange several of his organs or given up some of life’s pleasures if that meant he wouldn’t be 20,000 feet in the air, but he had been able to kind of separate himself from those emotions, keeping them at bay.

But Alec was mostly baffled by his own behavior. Remembering his interactions with his fellow passenger was painfully embarrassing. It was a dual shame: not only did he feel embarrassed about his own behavior, he also experienced a kind of vicarious shame, as though he’d been watching himself from afar, not unlike an out-of-body experience. 

_Gushing about deflowering like a teenager. Unbelievable._

He shuddered at the memory.

_And thinking things like ‘deflowering’, Jesus. Get it together!_

Alec could practically hear Izzy scream at him from 3,000 miles away: “Stop overthinking and overanalyzing every goddamn thing big brother!”

True, Alec wasn’t unfamiliar with the opinion (perhaps proclaimed on numerous occasions by his loving siblings) that he tends to overthink things. But he couldn’t help it. And this man… he got to Alec, on his nerves and under his skin, frighteningly easy. And Alec felt wholly unequipped to deal with whatever stirrings came out of that.

It was a cruel joke of fate actually that they should have been seated next to each other. Here was this flamboyant, self-assured man who felt so comfortable in his skin, as though he’d been wearing it for hundreds of years (though obviously it looked absolutely flawless). And then there was Alec, with a string of issues, more baggage than even the most liberal airline guidelines would allow him to fly with, and, well, _un_ comfortable in his skin. 

What did it matter anyway, Alec wondered, suddenly irritated. He’d probably never see him again.

But not thinking of Magnus meant thinking of Jace, and the total lack of plan or course of action for this whole affair, which made Alec extremely uneasy. Banning both of them from his thoughts just led to Alec thinking about the last time he’d left home, Izzy, Max… and that didn’t leave him feeling confident about his decision this time around. Not at all.

So if his thoughts wandered back to dark eyes lined with kohl and glitter, and ring-clad hands, he decided it couldn’t do much harm.

 

* * *

 

Magnus inspected his nails and rolled his eyes in a nonchalant manner as his possessions went flying around in the car. Jocelyn, however, evidently thought the whole thing was hilarious. “Luke, what in the world are you hoping to find?” Her carefree laugh echoed around the small vehicle and though not thrilled about its cause, it did Magnus good to hear.

The cop had gotten him out of trouble on more than one occasion during his eventful salad days. And he knew that all the while the man had been struggling in his own right. He knew of Luke’s past, the fallout with his best friend, who had slowly turned into a violent and homicidal maniac, and how he had fallen for his beautiful and compassionate wife. Jocelyn had lost one child to this monster, but she had been able to raise her daughter Clary in witness protection in her native France.

Luke just growled as he dug further through Magnus’ bags, not leaving a single pocket or nook untouched “You don’t know him as well as I do Joce; there’s no way he comes back, out of the blue, without something up his sleeve.”

“You’re right” Magnus quipped amusedly “you haven’t checked my sleeves yet.” He offered up his arms.

Luke just glared at him.

“I’m just trying to protect you from yourself, you stubborn as– “

Magnus cut in, “I know”, he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to almost physically shed his sarcastic demeanor, “I know, Luke. I appreciate the gesture, and truly, it’s lovely seeing you again”, Magnus gave Luke a small and rare heartfelt smile, “but you don’t owe me anything.”

Luke just grunted, “Not the way I see it. A life is not exactly a small debt.”

All right, maybe Magnus had once managed to get Luke out of a tight spot as well. But it would forever feel like Luke was one up on him, as opposed to the other way around. After his most formative years had taught him nothing else than his own unworthiness when it came to love and protection, and that life just sometimes kicks you in the balls without reason or apology, he couldn’t get over the absolute state of wonder that there had been people our there, strangers, who had extended a hand, without knowing anything about you, without expecting anything in return. Just opening their homes and hearts, just bestowing their trust. As though it was the most normal thing in the world. 

No, that would probably never stop baffling him.

Magnus smiled a little wider, and delicately cleared his throat “Well then perhaps you can start by giving me back my luggage?”

Luke sighed, but he halted his search nonetheless. His jaw flexed stubbornly, however, and he leveled Magnus with an intense gaze, “Don’t tell me there is nothing I can do, _within the bounds of the law_ , to help you out of any kind of trouble you’ve undoubtedly found yourself in.”

Magnus considered this for a moment. The knee-jerk reaction to decline help already forming a negative answer on his lips, when it occurred to him that “… actually, perhaps there is.”

 

* * *

 

As he stood in front of the imposing façade of hotel L’Institute, Alec thought the taxi ride had taken both too long and too short a time. If it were up to him right now he’d rather be on the first flight back, no matter how miserable. But he had to remind himself that there were bigger things at stake here. 

He could suddenly hear his mother’s voice in his head, unbidden and frightfully lifelike. 

_“Life is not about what you want to do it is about what must be done.”_

For some reason, from thousands of miles away, she still had the ability to make him feel like a 6-year old boy in need of scolding. Who wasn’t trying hard enough, wasn’t working hard enough. Wasn’t enough, period. Alec didn’t really know how to handle these moments. He hadn’t spoken to Maryse Lightwood in months. He disagreed with many of his mother’s views and actions, and he couldn’t exactly say he was a big fan of her parenting techniques. Nevertheless, it wasn’t like he didn’t agree with anything she ever taught him. _It wasn’t like he didn’t love her_ , his conscious supplied. It was confusing because he’d only just begun to untangle himself from the hold his parents had had over him for years; where did this perfect little soldier they created stop and his own person begin?

He stood a little straighter, squaring his shoulders as though preparing for impact, another habit instilled in him from his youngest years on, shaping him, physically even.

“ _Don’t slouch Alec, wear your height proudly”_

Alec scoffed. _Proud_. How can you teach someone to be proud, when they have no idea what to base it on, what its foundation is?

The figurine they’d created had shaped him, to be sure, but he, in turn, had shaped the figurine, not unlike the monster turning on dr. Frankenstein, who had soon regretted his creation, his “fallen angel”.

But the truth was, in his case, neither could exist without the other.

Alec resolutely pushed through the revolving doors and stepped into the lobby.

 

* * *

 

In the end it had taken Magnus almost two hours and 3 cups of coffee to talk sense into Luke and now he had started getting antsy about the whole situation with Alec. Granted, it had been surprisingly easy and altogether enjoyable to re-connect with Luke and Jocelyn. Unfortunately, his favorite redheaded scrap wasn’t around. Clary, apparently, had recently fallen head-over-heals for some guy and consequently barely had time for her old folks anymore. _To be young and in love,_ Magnus thought to himself amusedly.

But it struck Magnus how uncommonly off his game he had been today. He was placing a risky wager, with how little he had to go on with this Alexander person. The boarding pass and, later, a glance at his passport told him Alexander was 26, born in Argentina and was 6 foot 3, the latter being pretty damn obvious. Besides that there was just the name of the hotel Alec had given him, and he could’ve been lying about that, of course. Magnus thought he’d been plenty charming so he couldn’t imagine Alec wouldn’t want to chance a rendezvous, but still, he should’ve had much more to show for sharing a memorable 7 hours together.

A quick search on social media hadn’t proven much more fruitful. He only seemed to have a sadly stocked Facebook page with very few pictures and only the occasional post by what Magnus assumed was Alexander’s sister, and it appeared to have fallen into abominable disuse. Fine if that meant he had migrated to Instagram or Twitter, but no, Alexander appeared to be something of a social media recluse.

Magnus considered himself a good people reader. Honestly, it was kind of necessary when one had pulled cons for a living and had done so for almost as long as they could remember. He didn’t like it when he didn’t have all the information, and he didn’t like feeling unsure. Unfortunately, at the moment, both appeared to be the case. Sure, Alec’s classically beautiful face was easy to read as an open book, but, Magnus thought, with no little amount of chagrin, that was of little use if the book in question appeared to be in another language entirely. Without real insight in his person, his traits and motivations, it was going to be tough to predict his behaviour, and Paris was a big city, if he didn’t find him again soon….

Magnus tried to cast off these rare doubts with a shrug of the shoulder, for he was Magnus Bane and he had always loved a challenge.

 

* * *

 

 

Okay this was getting ridiculous. He had sat here waiting for almost an hour and still no sign of Jace. Grumbling that it had come to this, Alec made his way over to the front desk in a few long strides.

“English?” Alec all but barked out. 

“Of course sir, this is l’Institute not some backpackers’ ho-vel.” The man’s heavily accented voice matched his demeanour in giving off an air of disdain. He eyed Alec up and down suspiciously.

“Ho-vel… right. Could you tell which room Jonathan Wayland is staying in?” Alec asked, grudgingly adding a “please”.

The concierge just continued to appraise him loftily.

“Jonathan Wayland?” Alec asked again, “He’s expecting me.”

“I’m afraid… non”

Alec raised his eyebrows, “Non?”

“No, sir. But perhaps you could try the courtesy phone?” He gestured towards the old-fashioned corded telephone at the corner of the long counter.

Alec glowered at the clerk, “Seriously?”

The man just gave Alec a serene smile that set Alec increasingly on edge.

“Yeah well I tried the courtesy phone. It, ah,” Alec cleared his throat, fighting off a blush “it says ‘do not disturb’”

Perhaps it was the way the concierge _didn’t_ seem to react to anything Alec did or said, his completely unruffled and aloof manner, that did it for Alec, because he could have smirked or even laughed and it would not have been nearly as maddening.

“Look” Alec bit out, leaning forward over the counter, “I just spent seven hours on an airplane crossing _an ocean_.” Alec gestured his hands widely, to get his point across. ”I’m tired and I’m hungry and I just want to see my friend. Now it seems it is your actual job to assist people, so are you going to help me or not?”

“Sir, as concierge it is my duty to safeguard the privacy of our guests. And if our guests need safeguarding from their own – friends – well… After all, unlike some countries, France is not a nation of puritanical hypocrites.”

This guy had the actual audacity to finish his little speech with a seemingly polite nod of the head, as if he had just informed Alec breakfast was to be served between the hours of 8 and 10.

_What the actual fuck is up with the people here?_

Alec couldn’t believe that this was his life right now: arguing with these ridiculous individuals all day, and for what? He didn’t even want to be here. Alec took a deep breath as he attempted to reign in his temper. He tried not to think too much about the insanity of it all as he snatched a cheap- and gaudy-looking ‘I heart Paris’ necklace from a rack of jewelry for-sale and unceremoniously dumped it on the counter. He reached for his wallet and took out a 50-euro note that he subsequently slid over the counter, “Now, I think this should about cover that necklace and some information, don’t you?” Alec raised his eyebrow at the clerk.

The latter took the note and pocketed it before turning around and resuming his task of sorting paper work.

“Excuse me, I just gave you 50 euros.”

The man turned around and inclined his head “And I took it, thank you. Enjoy your purchase and if there’s anything else I can do to help, please let me know.” With those words the concierge disappeared to the back-office.

Alec had possibly never wanted to throttle someone as badly in his entire life, and with 2.5 younger siblings that really said something. Instead he just rubbed his hands over his face, stalked off and returned to his position on the spotless, but extravagant red sofa. 

Glaring into nothing, consumed by his own dark thoughts, it wasn’t until a few minutes later he realized he was still holding the ugly necklace in his right hand. A souvenir for Izzy? He thought to himself, amusedly, for all the good memories created here? But then, a much more interesting purpose came to mind. Quickly, he opened his bag.

He was so busy rummaging through it, repacking certain items, that he hadn’t noticed the young woman that had sat down beside him. Even when she addressed him he barely spared her half a glance. She had big dark curly hair that was hard to miss, however, matching a set of dark eyes. _Pretty, I guess._ Besides the eyes there was something fierce about her, seemingly indicating that she took no shit from anyone, which reminded him of his sister. _I really ought to call her actually_ …

“Forgive me for intruding, but I saw you sitting here, looking a little sad.”

Alec snorted, humorless, because if anything he probably looked as pretty fucking irritated as he felt, but sure, sad seemed accurate enough.

“Why should such a beautiful man look so sad? I asked myself.” She leaned in a little at that, her eyes big with – supposed – concern, in stark contrast with her voice that was low and seductive.

Alec cringed internally. Couldn’t he catch a break _?_ “Err…” 

But the woman continued shamelessly, her arm sneaking closer over the back of the sofa, “Let me help you to forget your sadness. Remember, you’re in Paris, city of love.” 

“Yeah, no, uh, no thanks.” Then a thought just occurred to Alec, he sat up a little straighter, turning to the woman, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.”

“Are you staying in this hotel? Perhaps you’ve – “ 

“Hmm rather my room than yours then, I gather? Is there a girlfriend I need to be worried about?” 

Alec couldn’t help the way his face scrunched up, appalled “What? No! No that’s not what I meant,” he spluttered.

The young woman examined him for a moment, cocking her head “If I’m not to your liking I’m sure something else can be arranged, perhaps with Maureen, or…. maybe rather Jordan or Elias?” She smirked knowingly and her eyes had a wicked glint to them “Your girlfriend, or boyfriend, needn’t ever know. You know, you have the face of an angel, but I’m delighted to find the mind might be a little devil.” 

Alec made a choked sound in the back of his throat and he was uncomfortable to find he had almost completely inched his way off the couch, “Look, lady, this is gonna get you nowhere. I’m not interested in any of… that”, he gestured vaguely “and –“

Suddenly something behind her caught his eye. In the glass elevator that was momentarily making its way down to the lobby stood no other than the AWOL golden boy himself, Jace-hey we’re best friends, but I can just lie to you and ghost you-Herondale. What more so caught his eye, however, was the fact that Jace currently seemed to be entirely wrapped up (there really was no other word for it) in a petite redheaded girl wearing a short short short summer dress.

Sure, he could’ve blamed the sudden dizziness on the fact that he jumped up fast as lightning, but truly it felt like something shifted beneath his feet. Permanently, even. And, for the first time Alec felt like he maybe understood why people always spoke of everything moving in slow motion. It didn’t, exactly, but instead he himself felt tortoise-like, nothing his brain was bringing forth was being translated to movements. Actually, his brain wasn’t even working fast enough to keep up with its own thoughts. One blink seemed to take an age. Proper thoughts formulated so slow, it constantly felt like he was experiencing déjà vu. So there he just stood, looking pretty stupid probably, not moving, not saying anything. Just … processing: the way Jace’s hands were wound up in the girl’s red strands of hair, and her hands, in turn, seemed to tighten on his waist. How she stood on her tip-toes while kissing him. How Jace’s eyes were trained on her face alone, like nothing else mattered.

Yeah this made it all real enough.

And, of course, since everyone else still seemed to function properly, by now the pair had exited the elevator and strolled towards the hotel entrance, still completely entangled ( _surely that can’t be an efficient way of walking?_ ). When they were gone from sight, only then did Alec seem to regain full capacity of his senses. And then it just felt like he made the whole thing up, but he would always know Jace anywhere. He had been trained to spot him, always, even in total darkness.

But then again, Jace had never looked likes this. Not even on leave or in the past few months when their lives had been turned upside down , when he was just his housemate and friend. No, Alec thought, he had never seen Jace like this: so happy and carefree. Not even when they met at age 10, _definitely_ not then.

Alec let his head drop and sighed. What was going on with Jace? What was he doing here really? It felt like he didn’t know him at all anymore. And for the first time since his decision, Alec wasn’t sure whether he wanted to find any of it out.

But he couldn’t back down now. He didn’t come all this way just to stand here, stupefied. So he forced his legs to move forward, gripped by a urgency all of a sudden, to catch his best friend before he would disappear in the snail shell maze that was Paris.

Alec was already halfway through the lobby when he remembered his stuff. Quickly, he made his way back to the sofa to retrieve his belongings. It was like a lot of things made sense all of a sudden when he reached the couch and his jacket and backpack appeared nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck.“

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

 

* * *

 

As Magnus hurriedly rounded the last corner between him and his destination he collided with a wild mane of thick dark curls attached to a dark-skinned girl. Automatically his hands reached out to stabilize the fellow pedestrian, but she didn’t appear to be in need of any assistance. Instead she glanced up at him, bewildered, “Magnus?”

“Maia! What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here, I thought you only worked the metro and Chinatown. No more pockets to pick there?”

Maia’s jaw set and she looked every bit as stubborn as Magnus remembered, _Everything about this girl is trouble,_ “No one tells me where to work.” Her chin was tilted upwards as if daring Magnus to contradict her. Indeed he dared not, and instead felt the corner of his mouth tip up in a grin. Maia answered with an almost feral grin of her own before stepping past him. “Sorry, Magnus, maybe we can catch up later, I’m kind of in a, well, hurry.”

And before Magnus truly had the chance to process this unexpected encounter, she had disappeared just as quickly as she had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

All Magnus’ earlier worries dissolved the moment he entered the lobby of L’Institute and he laid eyes on the instantly recognizable tall form that was Alexander Lightwood. Relief and restored confidence enveloped his body as though he had stepped into a warm bath and he felt remarkably like himself again. Not unlike a cat, he did always seem to land on his feet, Magnus concluded happily. 

Now, a simple distraction should do the trick and he could be on his way with the precious necklace, he thought to himself. _All’s well that ends well_. Magus was already picturing various scenarios that could qualify as a distraction, some not at all unpleasant ( _Who said it had to be all business?),_ when he registered that Alec seemed to be in a particular state of distress. The man was looking around despairingly before a string of curses erupted from that sinfully delicious mouth and he sank down on a sofa, head in his hands, desperately clutching at strands of dark hair.

“My my, Alexander, if I’d known you had such a dirty mouth I would’ve come up with infinitely better uses for it _so_ much sooner.”

The currently not-so-friendly giant jerked up his head at that and consequently glared so murderously at Magnus that he would’ve undoubtedly had a less determined man running for the hills.

Magus held his hands up by a way of apology, “Easy there”, and he was suddenly struck with a vision of approaching a cornered wild animal.

“Seriously? Here? I really can’t deal with you - with this - right now.”

Magnus looked around for the possible source of Alexander’s distress, “If there’s some kind of problem, maybe I can help, I’m very persuasive you know.” Magnus flashed Alec a smile he knew for a fact was practically irresistible, but it seemed to get no reaction out of the man. And, fine, maybe that was a little disappointing. “All right, how about we find somewhere quiet, perhaps your room, and talk it over, I’m a good listener too.”

Alec barked out a laugh so devoid of anything resembling humor it sent chills down Magnus’ spine, “I don’t have a room. In fact I don’t even have a wallet, or a phone or my passport. I have absolutely nothing right now.”

Magnus felt as though a heavy stone was making its way through his body slowly, churning in his gut, weighing him down. He frowned, “What… What do you mean, _nothing_?”

“It means” Alec choked out through clenched teeth, glowering ferociously, “that I just got robbed. No backpack, no belongings, no, … nothing.”

_Well fuck indeed_.

“What?!” Magnus exclaimed, calm and confident forgotten altogether. “How could you let this happen, you’re –“

“How could _I_ let this happen?!”

If Magnus had thought Alec looked murderous before it must have been a Grumpy-Care-Bear kind of murderous because it was nothing compared to what he looked like now. Magnus swallowed and some part of his mind was supplying him with inappropriate thoughts like “ _It’s kinda hot_ ”, but Magnus realized that this was so so so not the time. He quickly backpedalled.

“No, no, I mean, it’s just outrageous, I’m just appalled on your behalf. Upset even, because I know this country very well and, and really, it’s a scandal.” Magnus was struggling to get a grip on the situation. Everything had been coming together so beautifully, he had been so careful, because this, this last one, it meant everything and of course he had been stupid enough to involve, even somewhat trust, someone else. Served him right, Magnus thought bitterly. “Okay, think Alec, do you remember anything, anything at all, perhaps something or someone suspicious?”

“Oh I know exactly who did it” Alec said darkly, “I knew, I just goddamn knew there was something off about her, and then I get distracted for one second, just the one“ Alec groaned “it’s official, everyone on this continent is trying to ruin my life.”

“Now don’t be melodramatic darling, some people are just trying to help…” Magnus sucked in a quick breath all of a sudden.

_Click._  

“Wait, did you say _her_?”

Alec just rolled his eyes “Don’t tell me you’re not only a pain in my ass, but also a sexist one.”

Magnus couldn’t stop himself from grinning “Oh darling, if you’d let me, I could truly be a pain–“

“No” Alec just held up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other, his eyes closed and a tormented expression on his face (no doubt in the process of requesting assistance from higher powers), “please, just, no.”

“Fiiine. Let me know if you change your mind, though”, Magnus’ grin turned into something more private and he dropped Alec a glittery wink. Magnus wasn’t disappointed as those sharp cheekbones took on a hint of pink, contrasting oh so prettily with his alabaster skin and dark hair.

“Tell me, what did she look like?”

“Hm?”Alec’s eyelids fluttered distractedly as he met Magnus’ eye.

Magnus smirked amusedly, “the woman, Alec, the girl, what did she look like?” 

“Oh!”

“Dark curly hair? Yay tall” Magnus gestured, “purple top?”

Alec frowned at Magnus, his mind puzzling it out rapidly “You know her?” He groaned “Oh God, of course you know her. Yes you would have underground connections, wouldn’t you.”

Magnus raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow “I’m not sure what you are insinuating darling, but you can stand here all day and judge me all you want, I still seem to be the only one who can help you out right now.” Magnus pursed his lips and cocked his head.

“Yeah? I’m not so sure about that.”

_So goddamn headstrong this one._

“Don’t be stubborn pretty boy. Let me just get my car and I’ll take you right to her place.”

Alec’s eyes bored into his own with a sudden fierceness that caught him off guard. They seem to penetrate him easily, searing through all the layers that Magnus had so carefully constructed over the years. 

“What’s in it for you?”

Magnus’ breath hitched in his throat and he couldn’t seem to decide between facing Alec’s stare or shielding his face from him completely.

The question was simple, blunt and to the point, the way Alexander just seemed to be. _And yet…_ It didn’t appear to stem from an indifference, carelessness or even unkindness. On the contrary, there was something inherently virtuous about his directness, a devotion to honesty that blazed with an intensity that scared the hell out of Magnus more than anything else about him probably ever could. And Magnus couldn’t for the life of him explain why.

“Why are you here Magnus?” 

At that, Magnus tipped his chin, forcing himself to face those darned gorgeous eyes, those specks of green bathing in pools of light and dark brown.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you again.”

It wasn’t a lie, not completely anyway and it matched Alec’s question in being upfront, so there was something to say for it. And, well, Magnus really wasn’t all that coy when he knew what he wanted any other given day. But Alec actually seemed a little taken aback by his answer and… genuinely confused. All of a sudden _he_ seemed to be the one having trouble retaining eye contact, his eyes darting to Magnus and away as if he hoped signs might pop up around him out of nowhere, providing clarification. Obviously no such thing happened and when Alec met his eyes again he got no further than a dumbfounded “Why?” 

_You could give this guy all the signs in the world and he might still not catch on_.

“Really Alec? Okay let’s not even get into the part where I have to explain to you how a mirror works, let’s just say… you’ve unlocked something in me.” 

Now the poor man actually looked even more lost, something Magnus hadn’t thought would be possible.

“Listen, Magnus, I don’t know… I… it’s –“

Magnus held up his index finger, ghosting over Alec’s lips and he could feel his own mouth tip up in a smile at the way it got a lopsided grin out of Alec while his eyes couldn’t help but track the movement.

“Save it. Meet me outside in one minute while I’ll go get a – ah, _my_ , car.” 

“Yeah where have I heard that before?” he could hear mumbled behind him after he had just turned on the spot, heading out towards the revolving doors. If his smile grew a little wider it was only because it was a nice sunny day outside, obviously. 

  

* * *

 

 

For all his preference for earthbound transportation, Alec couldn’t say he was particularly enjoying this car ride. 

“Jesus” Alec hissed as Magnus overtook another car, just barely making it back into the right lane before oncoming traffic was upon them.

“At ease, darling.” Magnus said soothingly, gesturing vaguely with his one hand of the steering wheel, rings dancing and all. Still, Alec had really rather he’d keep that hand on the wheel…

Next, Magnus had to brake hard as traffic suddenly seemed to be at a standstill, and he honked before cursing dramatically in French. Then he just turned to Alec and smiled serenely as the car had come to a full stop. “So Alexander, what is that you do?”

_He is completely off his rocker._

Alec realized he was just gazing at Magnus, probably frowning, more like, and not answering his question the way normal people would when they held conservations and, you know, actually interacted with people that weren’t their siblings or students. “Um, I’m a teacher. History.”

Magnus’ eyebrows shot up at that. “Really? That’s.... surprising.” 

“Hmm I think I distinctly remember you insinuating _I_ was quick to judge others.” Alec was quick to point out and Magnus just blinked, seemingly unsure how to proceed. Alec offered him a wry smile, implying he was at least partly joking. In fact, he didn’t even insert half the sass in it that he normally might’ve. To be completely frank, Alec knew he didn’t fit the part. He still wasn’t completely sure what had made him choose this particular vocation. It wasn’t a dream job, or his calling , or fate, or any of that bullshit… yeah he guessed it was ‘giving back’, in a way, but it didn’t ( _couldn’t_ ) make up for what was taken, what _he_ had taken…. His heart rate picked up as sounds around him seemed to dull to a haze, while something else sounded shrill and harsh, or was that just in his head? Alec almost startled when Magnus spoke out, abruptly reminding him of the other man’s presence.

“You have a point there darling, I’m sorry if I gave offense, it’s just that you’re not what I expected.” 

The way Magnus said it made Alec feel like he was somehow deceiving him, making himself out to be something he was not. He fought the urge to shrink into himself, to get away from searching gazes and warm eyes. He suddenly felt exhausted. Alec stared at his lap where he was mindlessly kneading his thumb into the palm of his left hand, “There’s not much to me really“

Magnus just hummed and Alec once again had a creeping suspicion that there was a lot the other man was not voicing, but nevertheless thought to know. His absence of commentary hanging in the air like bait and Alec had to suppress the urge to bite. 

He wasn’t going to.

“Okay, so then who’s got your soul so bruised?” Magnus instead inquires instead.

Alec shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “What? No… it’s –“ _Yup, time to deflect._ “Well anyway, what do _you_ do for a living? Besides picking up random strangers at the airport?”

“Hm, can’t say I’m necessarily making a living out of it, but I certainly enjoy picking up delightfully handsome strangers on occasion.” Magnus was casually leaning back in his seat, a blinding smile gracing his already beautiful features and lighting up his eyes in a wicked manner. Eyes that, Alec just noticed, appear almost amber and gold-colored in broad daylight, standing out extra bright due to the dark kohl lining.

Alec could only roll his eyes, while some part of his brain wondered if they would ever get stuck that way as it seemed a default reaction to pretty much everything Magnus uttered. Luckily the furious blushing seemed to have subsided somewhat.

“You’re being evasive.”

“Are we playing pot versus kettle now?” Magnus asked, amusedly.

_Alright, fair enough_. Alec sighed. It just seemed that no matter how little he tried to give away, Magnus had a way of either coaxing it out of him or otherwise guessing correctly anyway. It was maddening, but also intriguing and it maybe a little exciting? It was rather tiring in any case, to try to weigh his every word and Alec didn’t really do dishonesty well, no matter how dishonest the company…

“Fine. I guess there is some room for improvement on my side as well when it comes to disclosure.” He scratched the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture, “I haven’t been a teacher for that long. I was in the Marines Corps, before…. so, yeah you probably weren’t too far off … whatever you were guessing. But I’m not. Anymore. Uh, I’m here in Paris to see my best friend. He _is_ here for work, or he was, I don’t know.” His brain was now flashing him brightly colored alarm lights, urging him to stop divulging, _ASAP._ “…and I don’t like peas.” he added, on a sort of whim, a lame attempt at humor and redirecting attention.

Magnus’ gaze was indecipherable and he was quiet for a beat, but then: “I guess that does make more sense as a heteronormative career culture.”

“Huh?”

“The Marines? You mentioned that, the heteronormativity, earlier.”

Alec just marveled at that for a moment: the comment probably uttered in the alcohol-induced split second of over-sharing on the airplane, forgotten altogether, but not, it appeared, by the elusive Magnus Bane.

He gnawed at his lower lip, “it’s not… I was exaggerating somewhat, it wasn’t really that bad.” Magnus raised his eyebrows in skepticism and Alec hurried on “No really. The guys there were pretty great actually.” Now Magnus was smirking. _Great. Keep it right up Lightwood, doing great._ He groaned and considered smashing his head into dashboard to shut his rambling self up for good. “What I mean is, we had a good team, solid, good guys each of ‘m. I trusted – trust – them all with my life. And I couldn’t have unless they’d accepted me for who I am, completely.” 

“And your parents, what you said about them…?” 

Alec picked up on the unspoken question. He snorted, but not really in humour, “Yeah that was blunt, but pretty accurate. There’s no exaggerating Maryse and Robert Lightwood.” 

Magnus seemed to hesitate somewhat, choosing his next words slowly “Does your quitting, or joining, the military have anything to do with them?”

_Everything. Nothing._

Alec couldn’t help but feel annoyed, would they follow him everywhere then, creeping into his conversations with other people, conversations with himself? Would he never be free? 

“Look, please don’t try to psychoanalyse me. Don’t look for a tale of woe when there is none. Again, there’s nothing really special about me.”

“Agree to disagree, I guess.” 

Magnus lightly drummed his hands on the steering wheel. Somehow making the smallest of motions look graceful. Not silent for long ( _he probably never was_ ), he started again “Do you miss it?” 

For a moment Alec was back behind his designated marksman rifle, responsible ( _always responsible)_ for each of the members of his fireteam moving ahead of him. It was just bodies. Anatomy. Deduction. Where do you aim? What is suspicious, what is a threat? But it wasn’t though, just bodies. It was a million different moments, thousands of small encounters, it was connections, small habits and grand gestures, it was lives touching lives touching lives, endlessly connected. He met Magnus’ questioning gaze, which somehow softened the sharp sensory edges of the memories, and without really thinking about it, the words “Dulce bellum inexpertis” tumbled from his lips.

He didn’t know if he had to translate that, or if he wanted to, but something told him he didn’t need to for Magnus, and the man himself didn’t ask for clarification.

Instead, Magnus mused quietly, almost to himself, “Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children.”

He frowned a little at the alternative use of the abbreviation for the US Marine Corps, having never felt like he truly knew how to interpret the term. “Aren’t we all?” He offered instead, similarly quiet.

And maybe he thought his companion would make another remark, but Magnus just righted his body, facing the dashboard again.

“Very well, I’m 32, I work as an art dealer and consultant –“ Alec couldn’t help but snort at that and the sudden change in tone, Magnus really was something else. The man in question narrowed his eyes, giving Alec a dirty look from the corner of his eye, but otherwise continued without a hitch “ –I’m here for a work-related auction, though Paris is one of my favorite places in the world, and so far it’s been surprisingly pleasant.” He re-started the engine as traffic began to move again, but threw one more glance in Alec’s direction, eyes dancing with mirth in a way that made Alec wary about what was to come “and I, on the other hand, eat pretty much everything.”

He could feel the burn of a scarlet flush emanating from his treacherous skin, starting at his neck and ears and radiating to his jaw and cheeks, and his groan did not so much arise from the innuendo as from his inability to look anything less than flustered in moments as these. _So much for the blush-free streak._

It seemed to be of no use to hope for a reprieve from either these jests or Alec’s dilating blood vessels. But as they drove in silence for a while Alec found he didn’t actually mind it that much anymore, nor did he Magnus’ driving and the crazy Parisian traffic. If anything, he was actually feeling quite comfortable, which rarely happened for him so quickly. Why did it feel implicit, like instinct, to trust this man, when, at that very moment, he could feel the literal weight of physical evidence in his pocket, suggesting otherwise? 

It wasn’t a banlieue exactly, but the apartment building they entered looked run-down and derelict nonetheless. Magnus took the steps two at a time with Alec following right on his heels. On the second landing they passed a brown-haired young woman and Magnus gave her a wink and friendly nod without breaking his stride, “Salut Maureen”. Apparently-Maureen stared after them, dumbstruck and clearly confused. Alec once again wondered what Magnus’ role was in these people’s lives.

Magnus knocked on the door of apartment 511 and the door had barely been opened before Magnus barged through, undoubtedly having had to use quite a lot of force, but somehow managing to look like the epitome of calm and ease, strolling in as though he owned the place. ( _He didn’t, did he?)_

“Maia, we have to stop meeting like this” Magnus gave the bewildered woman, who had had to jump back from the swinging door and had just found her balance again, an alluring smile and two kisses on the cheek. At the same time his eyes flashed with something darker, like a warning. Without wasting any time he quickly strode further into the apartment, already turning over items and opening cabinets. “You’ve met my friend Alexander?”

Alec still stood in the doorway, probably looking very lost. The woman from the hotel, Maia, gave him a weak smile and shrug of the shoulder, as to say ‘sorry I robbed you, no hard feelings?’, and he supposed that was all he was going to get and he sighed, but felt his posture relax nevertheless, “Alec”. She gave him a somewhat wider smile this time, though it still came across slightly mocking, “Maia”.

Magnus flung him his backpack from across the room and Alec nimbly caught it with the tips of his fingers, before discovering it was, in fact, quite empty.

He looked between the other two people currently making up this strange trio, “Where’s the rest? My phone, my passport?”

Maia shifted a little uncomfortably on her feet and Magnus was currently body deep in a wardrobe flinging out random objects, his voice sounding muffled, “Forget it, those are the first to go.”

“What about my clothes, my jacket?”

Magnus submerged for a moment and sighed dramatically, “Seriously? You want back that fifty-shades-of-grey sweater collection?”

Alec narrowed his eyes at the glittery man, who was looking increasingly frantic as he tore through the tiny apartment, now going over the same spots a second time, barely sparing Alec a glance.

_Playtime over_.

“How would you know what kind of clothes I had packed?” 

“Please” Magnus scoffed, “There’s at least three holes in that dreadfully faded sweater you’re wearing now, which, on second thought, might be purely out of convenience, since it’s really way too warm to be wearing sweaters this time of year anyway.” He sounded offhand and playful, but he was avoiding Alec’s eye and almost rambling, which Alec already deemed wholly uncharacteristic despite the briefness of their acquaintance.

“Looking for anything in particular Bane?”

“You tell me Lightwood, it’s your stuff!”. But he still wouldn’t meet Alec’s eye and instead turned to Maia “You heard him, where’s the rest? This… it _can’t_ be all.”

“Uhm, like you said, I sold the passport, phone and other valuables. I gave away some of the clothes and tossed everything else…” 

“Maia…” Magnus had crossed the room and now stood right in front of the young woman, hands gripping her upper arms, his eyes now looking very dark in the shaded apartment while trained on her face most intently, “You must have come across it, you couldn’t have possibly….”

_Ah_. Alec sighed softly, it was as much as he had suspected. Now why did he still feel a sting of disappointment? 

Louder, Alec cleared his throat “Excuse me?”

But Magnus was completely focused on Maia, who, in turn, looked extremely confused. “well there was that necklace I was about to toss, I only needed a moment to ascertain it was w– “But Magnus was already off, rushing towards the table on the tiny balcony that Maia had gestured to. On it lay a package of brown paper wrapping, messily taped together.

Even louder still, Alec demanded “What necklace Magnus?" 

It wasn’t hard to summon his anger. After all, it had been simmering beneath the surface this whole day, maybe even these past few weeks, but it had crystallized ever since he had sat impatiently in the lobby, digging through his bag to look for his charger, but instead coming across an unfamiliar package….

“You _hid_ something in my bag? Do you have any idea of the trouble if could’ve gotten into, what could’ve happened!?” Magnus’ countenance gave nothing away, but he still held his gaze intently with those amber irises. And Alec felt so stupid with himself for feeling disappointed _(Can you be disappointed with your own disappointment? Disappoint-ception? wow, nice title for my biography, I guess)_ and he really didn’t want to sound petulant, but he couldn’t help how the next words came out “I guess its kind of nice to know you actually don’t give a shit about me, solves that riddle.”

The other man quickly opened his mouth as to contradict that statement, only to close it again. He sighed. “Look, I’m truly sorry you lost your things, but I wasn’t the one to steal them. And, believe me or not, I knew what I was doing, darling, I’m no amateur. You were never going to get stopped or searched at customs. For God’s sakes, you’d probably declare a pack of chewing gum.” Magnus said, and he looked almost … fond?

It was just too much.

Alec scoffed, “Unbelievable. Such bullshit, everything with you… it’s bullshit.”

Magnus narrowed his stupidly perfect golden glittered eyelids ( _where had he found time to re-do his make-up?_ ) and tutted “If the real world is too much for you, maybe it’s time to retreat to the perfect little card house you’ve crafted for yourself, with the perfect little 2D paper-cut puppets.”

Alec felt like he had just been dunked in ice water “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Here”, Magnus reached for his wallet, holding out a hefty stack of bills “take this.”

“No. I don’t want your money.”

“It’s yours, it’s what Maia got for your belongings.”

“I. don’t. want. your money.” Alec gritted out through tightly clenched teeth while he lightly pushed Magnus outstretched hand away. And before Magnus could get in another word, he turned around and strode out of the apartment, without sparing either Maia or Magnus another glance. 

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus groaned as he sagged down in a worn-down leather armchair that filled most of the living room in Maia’s shoebox apartment, gently massaging his temple as he leaned his head back.

“Rough day?” Maia quipped amusedly.

Magnus lips twitched, “You could say that. Not to mention your little show of independence made it considerably harder than necessary.”

Maia just shrugged, “There’s no way I could’ve known”, but then she crossed her arms and smirked “though now that I think about it, tall-dark-and-handsome there was definitely your type.”

Magnus rolled his eyes, but the fond feeling thrumming through his body was telling another tale. How annoying. “You’re not wrong.” He simply said. “Though I’m afraid that ship has sailed. Or, you know, stormed off.” 

His tenacious little friend snorted as she started to rearrange her kitchenware; the place did kind of look like a nuclear bomb just went off there. “Tea, coffee?” Maia asked.

Magnus leveled her with the most skeptical of gazes.

“Right.” She rummaged through another cabinet, “Scotch?" 

“Now that’s more like it”

Magnus settled more comfortably in the chair, forcing thoughts of betrayed and cold-looking hazel eyes off his mind as he reverently turned the brown paper package over in his hands, carefully removing the tape and shedding the paper layers one by one to find… _huh_ …. something very, very strange.

As he lifted the necklace from the wrappings he quickly realized two things (three if you count his appraisal of the absolute kitschy tackiness of the object). One, this was most definitely _not_ the ruby piece of jewelry the package had originally held, and two, the tourist baiting I-heart-Paris necklace he was now holding in his hands couldn’t be worth more than 10 euros at most.

“Maia…” Magnus felt a little nauseous just opening his mouth to speak “Please make that a double, my dear. And then please, _please,_ explain what the hell is going on here.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dulce bellum inexpertis basically means the following: 'war is sweet to those who have never experienced it'.  
> Of course, to those who have, it rarely is.
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter and where the story is going in general! Please let me know your thoughts via comments/kudos ! I'd really like to know what you liked or didn't like or just anything at all that pops into your head!

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, but I consider myself pretty fluent, so if I make mistakes that is deffo something you can point out!
> 
> Oh and my French is (like Alec's) pretty non-existent, so apologies
> 
> I do know goddesse isn't actually French for goddess (that would be déesse), but it's a funny part in the movie dialogue and I though it was pretty characteristic of Jace, actually.
> 
> Again comments/feedback are much appreciated! xoxo


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